"It's just the three of us here now," says Barnaby as you enter the low stone cottage. "Me, my daughter Rose, and Crocker here." The cottage has only a single room, at one end of which a peat fire burns steadily in the stone hearth. A girl of about ten attends the fire, and stands up as you enter, only to double over in a fit of coughing. Barnaby runs to her side, and though he can do little save comfort her, the coughing passes. You catch a small red spot upon the palm of the girl's hand as she lowers it from her mouth.
"It's not a good place for a child, this," says Barnaby, "but it's what we've got. We get by, don't we?" This last bit is directed at Rose, who nods before turning her wide eyes back to you and Drazha. "Her mother passed two winters ago," he continues. "We buried her up on the mountain. Anyway, you'll just have to bed down by Crocker there. Don't worry, he'll look after you."
He gestures to a pile of straw spread out at the end of the cottage nearest the door. "Hope that'll be all right for you to sleep on. It's good enough for Crocker at any rate." You thank him and begin to unpack your sleeping rolls.
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